Chap LXIX - End of Part 2, and novel as a whole

[Thomas]

Don Quixote is frequently cited as a "Christ figure" or a holy fool. In that light it is striking that Sancho is the one who must suffer for Don Quixote's salvation, embodied in the disenchantment of Dulcinea, and to raise Altisidora from the dead. Dulcinea is herself a kind of ghost, a figment of DQ's imagination, but Sancho is the only one who can bring her back to the world for DQ. At first he is unwilling to suffer for DQ, but then he agrees, for money. Soon after this he deceives DQ by faking his punishment. Altisidora is miraculously resurrected after the duennas manage to give Sancho a few pinches.

These are jokes, of course, but they seem to be purposely irreverent. If DQ is a Christ figure, what is Sancho?

The first time I read Don Quixote, with this group about ten years ago, I pegged DQ as an idealist, and Cervantes' grand farce as a snide criticism of idealism. I was also not very taken with Part Two. This time around I found the character of DQ much more nuanced, and Part 2 is so much more complex and masterful than I thought the first time.

DQ is still an idealist, of course, but that is not all. He is a man who makes himself what he is. He puts down his books and makes himself as "a child of his own actions." He is actively engaged with the world in creating his own identity. In Sancho's words, he conquers himself:

"Open your eyes, my beloved country, and see that your son Sancho Panza has come back to you, if not very rich, at least well-flogged. Open your arms and receive as well your son Don Quixote, who, though he returns conquered by another, returns the conqueror of himself."

DQ's sanity returns to him in defeat, and then he dies. This death seems sudden to me, but I think in fact DQ is already dead at this point. He dies when he gives up his identity as a knight errant. I think this is what infuriated Cervantes about Avellaneda's sending DQ to an insane asylum. First, it is beneath the dignity of Don Quixote, and second, it misses the point: DQ is not mad in the way that insane people are mad; he is mad in the way that sane people are mad. He believes in himself despite the world and despite reason itself. This time around I see Don Quixote as a novel about being and identity, even more than it is about idealism.

Your final thoughts?

[Dave]

Thanks for leading the discussion, Thomas. This was my first time completing Don Quixote, after a few previous failed attempts, so I’m grateful as ever to this group for spurring me on.

[Dave]

Many of the well-known episodes of DQ appear in Part 1, which suggests to me that few readers make it all the way to the end. The joy of part 2 is seeing the relationship between Sancho and DQ evolve. In part 1, they represent all the classic elements of the double act - tall and short; thin and fat; clever and stupid; master and servant; aristocrat and peasant - but in part 2 many of these dynamics shift as their characters evolve.

[Dave]

Agree with your comments about DQ’s “madness”. It’s an issue we’ve touched on a great deal in our discussions, and it reminds me of the question of Hamlet’s sanity, though his antic disposition obviously has a different dimension.

For me, DQ is obviously an extreme (and often comic) example, but I think Cervantes was keen to show the pitfalls of pursuing an idée fixe at all costs.

[Tamara]

I think this is the 3rd or 4th time I’ve read the novel as I’ve tried to make it a point to read it every 10 years or so. I got so much more out of it this time around than in previous readings. I also saw a shift in my focus.

Whereas in the past I was glued to DQ and his idealism, I found myself focusing more on Sancho this time around, specifically in the relationship between the two of them. I loved their back and forth banter and watching them evolve as they grew toward each other until they almost became two sides of the same coin.

[Tamara]

Thomas wrote: "Your final thoughts?..."

All good literature tells us something about ourselves. And this novel is no exception. I learned something about myself, learned how I’ve changed. I’m not embarrassed to admit (but, perhaps, I should be) that in previous readings I used to shed tears at the end of this novel. I hated to say goodbye to DQ and hated to see his dream shattered. But as we progressed through this discussion, I found myself getting increasingly concerned about his extremism. While I continue to admire his goals, I worry about his fierce determination to implement his vision.

Nowadays I shy away from extremism of any kind. Even if the goals are noble, as they are in the case of DQ, and even if his heart is in the right place, as it is in the case of DQ, the potential for causing harm and inflicting pain on others is ever present in any manifestation of extremism.

I still love DQ—both the character and the novel. But I’ve come to appreciate Sancho more than before and realize both characters and the qualities they represent have to be embraced simultaneously. It’s a juggling act to balance the scales. Failure to do so leads to the horror.

I can't help feeling it's really sad to conclude that even the most well-intentioned ideology must be tempered with practical and flexible considerations--that it must adapt to changing circumstances. Like DQ, I would like it to blaze true, unchanged, for all times and all places. But the times we currently inhabit tell me that is not possible. Or, maybe, I’m just getting old.

Thanks to all who contributed to a very rewarding discussion. And a special thank you to Thomas for steering the ship with his insights and probing questions.

[Rafael]

"DQ is not mad in the way that insane people are mad; he is mad in the way that sane people are mad"

This is a precise definition of Don Quixote.

This is my second reading of this book and now I get it better than the previous time. I thought that Don Quixote death was very sudden too. I guess I would like this book more if Don Quixote died as a "mad man". His mea culpa and his "cure" seems "wrong", maybe out of place. But probably it would not be this great book if its ending was different.

Thank you for all the great commentaries and thank you, Thomas, for conducting this reading.

[Thomas]

Dave wrote: "Agree with your comments about DQ’s “madness”. It’s an issue we’ve touched on a great deal in our discussions, and it reminds me of the question of Hamlet’s sanity, though his antic disposition obv..."

I can't recall if it was mentioned earlier, but Hamlet and the first part of DQ were published in the same year. It's an interesting comparison -- DQ's faith in an impossible ideal is comical, and loveable, while Hamlet's self-centered doubt is tragic and dark. Both are "mad," but in very different shades. Turgenev's essay on this is worth the time if you're not already familiar with it: http://www.donquixote.com/uploads/4/3...

Thanks for your comments, Dave, and thanks for reading along with us. I would not have read it again without the group, and I'm glad I did.

[Thomas]

Tamara wrote: "I can't help feeling it's really sad to conclude that even the most well-intentioned ideology must be tempered with practical and flexible considerations--that it must adapt to changing circumstances. Like DQ, I would like it to blaze true, unchanged, for all times and all places..."

One aspect of the book that completely escaped me the first time I read it is the theme of letters versus arms. In a broad sense I think this plays into the problem of untempered ideology; whenever letters (that is, an idealistic philosophy) are put into practice they must be tempered or they will be defeated. When DQ sallies forth to live the life of arms, he learns that the idealism he found in books is not commensurate with it. But he does not accept this, which makes him comical and entertaining. A person with a different attitude might be tragic instead.

Sancho goes in the opposite direction -- he starts off in search of materialistic, practical goals, and finds he is capable of sound judgment and wisdom. I find this odd, because it seems to come out of nowhere. But Sancho is not really allowed to be himself until he is given some authority. Only then he is allowed to shine. But even then he is undone by his appetite, which is as comical as DQ's impracticality. Maybe the imbalance of the ideal and the practical, or the extremism of this imbalance, is where the comedy comes from. Perfectly balanced and tempered characters would not be nearly as entertaining.

[Thomas]

Rafael wrote: ""This is my second reading of this book and now I get it better than the previous time. I thought that Don Quixote death was very sudden too. I guess I would like this book more if Don Quixote died as a "mad man".."

Me too, and I feel the same way about the ending. It occurred to me though that the abruptness of DQ's death might be intentionally jarring. It might be the same kind of mistake, or misstep, that crops up occasionally in the book, and like those maybe the ending also hits the wrong note intentionally. Cervantes' last joke is on us.

[Thomas]

Thanks to everyone for what has been a long journey through a great book. I have a new-found appreciation for the depth of this novel, thanks to your comments and conversation.

Don Quixote has influenced countless novelists and artists over the centuries, but I would like to leave you with this as we get ready for the next major read:

In what is perhaps the highest tribute, Laurence Sterne, known as the father of experimental fiction, modeled the character of Uncle Toby in _The Life and Opinions of Tristam Shandy, Gentleman_ (1759) after Cervantes' knight-errant. As a whole, Sterne's novel is an embrace of the aesthetic affinities of El Quijote: a humorous, self-referential narrative that is concerned with poetry and philosophical questions about life in general (John Locke and the Metaphysical poets are constantly being invoked), all the while the reader is being reminded, time and again, that fiction is a conceit, an artifice -- not an escape from reality but an anchor in it.

The connection between Cervantes and Sterne, who read El Quijote in Motteaux's rendition, has been eloquently explored by Milan Kundera. In his essay "The Depreciated Legacy of Cervantes" (part of the Art of the Novel), he writes that Sterne is playful, just like Cervantes, in that he poses lasting philosophical questions while recognizing that philosophy no longer has the answer and that literature -- the novel as a literary genre, in particular -- is an artifact where ambiguity and the lack of certainty are offered as more suitable answers to the sensibility of modern readers...

-- Ilan Stavans Quixote: The Novel and the World

[Rhonda]

I have been remiss for a few weeks in my comments and I regret that I was not able to add to the conversation in that regard. There are a multitude of things which run through my head for this last section. One which stands out for me is how much I dislike the Duke and Duchess episodes. I dislike them, mostly I suppose, because I think of them as people who are devoid of purpose in life except having fun an another's expense. Although it is to their credit that both Don Quixote and Sancho shine through the tricks that are played upon them, I am incapable of laughing very much at these tricks. At best, they appear as slapstick and, at worst, well, it is the bullying of others from a position of influence and power. Needless to say I have experienced people like this in my life as, no doubt, have others.

It has been years since I have considered Don Quixote in and out of his contextual realm, but I have been most enthused to consider what others have said about him throughout history. Especially significant to my understanding of Don Quixote is the eminent 20th century Spanish philosopher, Jose Ortega Y Gasset, hereafter referred to as Ortega.
Ortega wrote a significant book concerning Don Quixote which was called Meditations on Quixote
Ortega sees the book, Don Quixote, as a teaching example for Spain; each is seeking its own identity, (and in early 20th century Spain, this was perhaps even clearer than it is now.) Ortega attacks the idealism of Spanish modernism in the following:

There has been a time in Spanish history when people refused to recognize the depth of Don Quixote. This period is known by the name of the Restoration. During that time the heart of Spain slowed down to the lowest number of beats per minute.

The great question of philosophy is one of identity, especially what it takes to uncover identity. This concept has been passed on by early Greek thinkers such as Plato who states that the unexamined life is not worth living. In more modern parlance, Camus says that there is only one question and and that is of suicide. The question ultimately comes down to how long we, each of us individually, may avoid looking into the mirror and examining our own image. It is a question to which Don Quixote responds in an odd way, taking that which is not perceived as true on the surface of things and using its principles to expose what is good and true.

Indeed, who is Don Quixote? Who am I? I see the book as asking us to answer the latter question before we answer the former.
Ortega says:

When shall we open our minds to the conviction that the ultimate reality of the world is neither matter nor spirit, is no definite thing, but a perspective? I am I and my circumstance, and if I don't save it I don't save myself.

The significance of Don Quixote, for Spain, for each country of the world and indeed, each and every person who abides within the world is that we are tasked to question each and every path we take and each decision we make. We are asked to compare our activities to what is real and important. Sooner or later, we must ask ourselves whether we are pursuing a path which others have asked of us or whether we have taken the difficult and unapproved path to become who we were intended to be.
Ortega says further:

We take possession of the real, which is like measuring the meters of a chain on our feet. Then we say: «Is this life? Nothing more than this? A conclusive cycle that repeats itself, always identical? ”Here is a dangerous hour for every man.”

There is no shortage of people who have designs to become rich in some ethereal way and, thus, fulfill their dreams of living without pain or torment. It is a false decision, but there is no shortage of those waiting for something to happen in their lives so that they can begin it. Don Quixote, on the other hand, the most absurd character who embraces unreality, embarks on not a vacuous mission, but a principled one to save himself, to serve as an example for those around him, to save Spain. Ultimately, there is nothing ridiculous about him and, although in relative misery at being bested by a cynic, an educated bitter fool and a false man, Don Quixote is able to pass a torch of commitment to Sancho.

There is much in the last chapters which remind one of Plato's Meno which, at its core, ask what virtue is and whether it can be taught. Part of the answer to this question is given in the last conversations Don Quixote has with Sancho. if Don Quixote was ridiculous, Sancho began as a complete and utter buffoon, stuffed with maxims which he recited interminably and ineptly. He ends the long saga with Don Quixote commenting on his wisdom and character. If virtue cannot be taught directly, perhaps, this book suggests, that with the right person, it may be taught through trials and difficulties.

Don Quixote is a monument to seizing the life path of truth. he does not intentionally teach us what is impossible and possible, he does not teach us that righteousness will always fail, but he does teach us, if the reader is willing, to help us understand that we must reach for our identity by stepping outside of that which is accepted. It is a lesson which reminds us of our duties to learn how to live to become our best possible person, regardless of our failures along the way and, perhaps, even at the end.

[Ben]

i am absolutely astounded by the walls of text i'm encountering here, i must admit am not used to seeing such erudite discussion on the web. i fear i won't have nearly as much to say especially since its been a solid year since i read the book. however it did stand out to me as particularly excellent, easily ranking up there with some of my other favorites. it was so thoroughly well crafted that it seems almost insulting to try and pinpoint individual elements that made it so noteworthy. the characters were all very well developed, i especially enjoyed the brief novel within a novel (the ill-advised curiosity i believe it was), it felt like a very postmodern device for an author to be employing in that time, in fact the whole meta contextual situation with the characters being aware of their previous adventures being turned into a novel in part two was also a stroke of genius. its another clever jab at the mediocre writers cervantes so enjoys skewering, and also gets you thinking about the nature of celebrity culture which is something i never would have expected going in.

aside from all that its just a really fun read and one with two of the most likable protagonists ive come across. they are both deeply flawed for different reasons (simplicity, outright madness) but with their noble intentions they often end up making the lives of the people they encounter better, aside from a few notable incidents.